Forgotten Demons
by Seraph Sabre
Summary: After one of Knives' genocidal romps goes wrong and he winds up badly injured, Legato finds him and nurses him back to health. PG with nothing of particular note for now, R with yaoi later. Yes, it's KxL(or LxK, actually...). Duh.
1. Found

Forgotten Demons

Seraph Sabre

He searched, desperately, frantically scaling the rubble and debris that littered the streets, though the search shredded his palms. It would have been two days by now, he realized, if his master was alive in this mess somewhere…

He turned a corner and was greeted with piles of crumbled stones and bricks, a metal raster strewn directly across the street. And beyond it, he could see… something lying in the sand. The form was not unlike a person, and it wouldn't be a stretch to say the size was approximate to that of his master. So he stepped cautiously on a pile of unstable rock, grabbing at the rusted, scraping raster with his hands, and pulled himself over it. Peeling, decaying metal poked into his hands, but he paid the wounds no heed. He practically fell off the raster and onto the dusty terrain, but quickly regained his footing and rushed towards the downed figure.

As he grew closer, it came into focus. Knives was sprawled on his back, his limbs splayed in a mess that looked both unnatural and extraordinarily uncomfortable; it seemed likely that his right arm was broken. There were gouges and blood on every visible area of flesh, his clothing was tattered and bloodied, and his face was contorted into an expression of utmost misery and pain. Legato knelt by his side, tentatively brushing a hand over Knives' brow, as if his beaten master could have possibly managed to cause him any harm. His fingers fell one by one off Knives' head, and he drew his hand back, staring in disbelief at the state of the plant.

Gently, he issued another touch, this time carefully nudging a shoulder, as he spoke softly, "Master? Can you hear me?"

Legato bit his lip as Knives made no response, but he continued, "It's me, Master… Legato. I'm going to take you back to the complex and take care of you, alright?"

With that, he gingerly lifted Knives off the ground and, carrying his precious load, made his way much more carefully out of the ruined city.

-…-

Days had passed, and though wounds had begun to slowly mend, Knives still hadn't given any indication that he would wake up, let alone fully recover. Legato grew increasingly anxious as the hours passed, never leaving the room, except for absolute necessities. Despite his remarkable talent for gluttony, he had barely managed to eat at all since he had found the plant and brought him back. Much more effort went into making sure that Knives received enough nutrition, a daunting challenge in this state. More often than not, it meant preparing food in a more liquid form, and slowly coaxing the unconscious Knives to swallow. He also took great care to delicately convince his master to turn onto or off of a side, to avoid any complications from leaving him in one position for too long. Most of his time, though, was spent waiting.

Sometimes he would pace; at others, he merely sat in a chair and watched Knives sleep, and sometimes he would sit on the edge of the bed and plead with his injured master not to leave him.

He didn't know what he would do if Knives died.

He'd certainly have no idea what was expected of him… he thought that Knives would probably want him to destroy humanity, but he didn't know if he was supposed to, since he was only a human himself and that task was not for his kind. Perhaps Knives would have wanted him to continue his mission; seek out Vash and convince _him _to destroy humanity, though the task seemed even more of a challenge without his master's infinite wisdom to guide him through it.

Realistically, he would probably just die himself. He knew he wasn't supposed to be allowed death until he had accomplished all of the goals his master had laid for him, but he probably wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

He always reassured himself, after he came to this conclusion, that it would not be an issue. After all, Knives wasn't weak, like a human. No matter how bad his condition, it would be okay and he would live.

Knives wouldn't die.

Knives couldn't die.


	2. Awake

**2**

_Awake_

Nearly two weeks had passed.

Legato's anxiety was reaching remarkable levels; for someone usually so composed and dignified about, well, everything, he was growing amazingly frantic. His pacing about the room had become his favorite pastime, and he hadn't been able to eat more than a few bites in days. He barely noticed his hunger; if Knives didn't wake up, his starving to death would be meaningless anyway. The possibilities of what he would do if his lord passed on hadn't been brought up by his mind in at least a week; it seemed that he was loosing too much of his collected calm to consider anything logically. If he let himself entertain the thought that Knives' death was a possibility at all, he might simply go completely insane.

Of course, on the surface, Legato would always appear smooth, elegant, and quite calm. He woke up, set about his duties, and loyally waited. It was only those who had spent any considerable amount of time around him that could point out the symptoms of his frenzy. The pacing, for one, or the way he went about the same task again and again, letting his quirks get the better of him as he became absolutely dedicated to keeping Knives' blanket absolutely and perfectly smooth, or the room free of any dust, and the great and revered Master, whom he would never dream of touching were Knives awake or even if the minion were just about his wits, perfectly groomed. And of course, there was always the fact that his food intake had decreased so dramatically, always a major indicator that something was very wrong with Legato.

Perhaps it was their knowledge of his usual behavior – and Midvalley's lack of an issue with speaking to his superiors in a way Legato considered to be highly inappropriate – that had led the blue-haired man to restrict the Gung-Ho Guns to their rooms towards the end of the first week.

Since the action had been taken, the deafening silence of the room had grown even more dramatic; at least before it, footsteps could sometimes be heard in the corridors, occasionally a voice or two. If Legato left to eat what meager rations he'd subsist off of for the day, he might run into them. But now, the only sounds in the room were Knives' soft breathing and the ones that he produced himself when going about his duties. The only sound in the hallways were his own resounding footsteps, though sometimes a few muffled sounds issued forth from the Guns' rooms.

The days had been counted carefully, the hours noted as they passed; it was the thirteenth day after Knives had been returned to the complex, and it began like any other. Legato woke up with the first sliver of the first sun and began checking on his master's progress, cleaning any of the remaining wounds, and then wiping any dirt from the plant's face with the care of an artist restoring a priceless sculpture. He then combed Knives' hair into its customary style with the same ginger care and attention, and replaced the blanket about his master, smoothing it carefully. He then began to clean the room, thoroughly and, in many places, repeatedly, for several hours. When that was done, he set about his day's pacing.

It must have been on his seventy-second or seventy-third round trip back and forth across the room that the dense silence was broken by a sound other than his own; a small, barely audible groan. He wasn't even certain that he had heard anything at first, so he slowed his motions, listening for it again… it came.

And then he froze.

His last, half-finished step was mere inches from the wall opposite the bed, which he was facing. He spun on his heels and gaped as he saw Knives begin to stir, shifting around in bed as much as his (largely healed, thanks to his species' gifts) injuries allowed him to. Legato darted toward the bed, leaning over at a respectful distance, and watched with more relief and unabashed worship than one would think possible as two cerulean blue eyes slowly opened and focused on him.

Knives blinked up at Legato, looking completely disoriented and almost… afraid. Though, obviously, it couldn't have really been fear in the eyes of the powerful plant, not when faced with a human, let alone his own obedient, willing slave. The disorientation, Legato could easily write off as the fact that Knives was not accustomed to being injured, and the fact that he'd been unconscious for the past fifteen days, when you counted the days before he was found.

"Sir… how are you feeling?" Legato asked, cautiously and with more concern than he knew he should show; after all, there was nothing Knives hated like sentimentalism. Yet… he didn't seem to be ill-received.

"Well… I'm in a lot of pain, if that's what you're referring to," Knives was still looking at Legato strangely, and the human couldn't quite figure out why. It wasn't the usual anger or extreme disgust, but rather the disorientation growing more and more potent.

Legato blinked, until he came to a tentative conclusion. "You… don't know who I am, do you?"

Almost guiltily, Knives shook his head. The expression was remarkably unsuited to him.

The human's heart dropped. At least when Knives had known who he was, he'd managed to earn an impressive amount of disdain. It was better than being an absolute nonentity. Unless…

"Do you… know who you are?" Legato asked, dreading the answer.

"Well…" Knives' brow furrowed, and he frowned in concentration for a few fragments of eternity before finally answering, "…now that you mention it, no, I don't."

Legato's heart plunged the rest of the way down into the darkest pits of despair… it hadn't happened exactly as he'd feared, but what he had been dreading had come true. His master had left him, though his body still lived… not that it mattered, really. As long as Knives was alive… his memories could come back. His memories absolutely would come back. All Legato had to do was take care of him until he was fully healed, physically, and then start trying to prompt them. It would be no big deal, and in no time, his master would be back to normal.

"Well… for now, your name is Knives, and I am Legato. I'm going to take care of you until you're completely healed, and then we'll try to see if we can get you to remember anything."

"Okay. … Thank you."

Legato blinked, raising an eyebrow, completely taken aback. He certainly had a long way to go.__


	3. Departing

**3**

_Departing_

Of course, the task of telling Knives who he was and what the goals of his agenda were presented Legato with an interesting moral dilemma. On one hand, with the loss of his memories, Knives seemed to take on an entirely different personality. He seemed quiet, introverted and, most unsuited to him, thoughtful and even compassionate. He was certainly grateful and appreciative of Legato's taking care of him, and, as his condition improved and the minion's fatigue began to become more apparent, even went so far as to be _concerned _for Legato's well-being. In light of this much more subdued persona his master had adopted, it seemed to Legato that filling him in on the particulars of the abuses he had suffered- and exacted- and the way he was supposed to behave would only serve to upset his master, who, lacking in the memories and experiences that had shaped him into the crusader he had been, seemed almost childlike now.

On the other hand, if Knives were to regain said memories and experiences, he would likely be very displeased with his minion for allowing him to behave in a manner that he would surely find undignified and wholly absurd. So it was with careful consideration to the plant's current state, now-delicate feelings and the wrath he would bring unto himself were Knives to become Knives once more, that Legato decided on his course of action. Rather than choosing absolute inaction that would certainly anger his master, Legato would attempt to help Knives remember on his own. Hopefully, he could spur the plant's memory and avoid having to simply dump everything on his master all at once.

It was in this spirit that, as soon as the latter was well enough, Legato took Knives out into the desert to show him the world he had chosen as humanity's deathbed and the construction site of his future Eden. He had decided that the best way to induce Knives' memories was to show him the state of the planet and its inhabitants and to, hopefully, let the recollections come on their own. He had planned a trip sensitive to the things most likely to cause Knives' memories to resurface, making sure to stop off in all of the locales that had been stages for the most important events in the forming and evolution of his master's grand plan.

Knives was stunned by the blinding brilliance of the world as soon as he was out of the heavy, morose darkness of the subterranean complex he apparently inhabited by choice, though he found this among the most difficult of things to comprehend. Just a few paces outside of the complex, he stopped and gazed out over the sands, taking in the sprawling, shimmering wasteland that rolled like so many waves of gold under the twin suns.

Noting his master's inspection of the terrain, Legato stopped a few steps behind him, speaking softly, with a careful indifference in his tone to let Knives form his own impression without being given any hints as to what reaction he should be feeling, "Well, this is it -home. The climate is the same over the entire planet."

There was a pause for a few moments as the plant scanned this barren landscape before him, and then he spoke, in quiet, awed tones, "It's beautiful."

In response to this, Legato simply stared, completely stunned at the statement. Knives matched his shocked stare with the nonchalant gaze of a child who does not realize they've said anything wrong or at all unusual. Realizing his companion's disbelief, he offered further commentary, now taking a more practical approach to the planet.

"Well, obviously the environment leaves much to be desired. Resources are scarce, I'm certain, and the heat is extreme; it must be very dangerous to be out for long during the day, especially around midday. The conditions must be remarkably harsh as well; deserts are prone to sandstorms and typhoons, and the nights most likely reach the opposite temperature extremes, and also to a dangerous degree. My initial remark was simply meant in a purely aesthetic sense..."

"No," Legato took the hesitation as an opportunity to interrupt, "You're right; it is beautiful. I just hadn't looked at it that way before now. But it is."

Contented with the agreement, Knives remarked, "Like an endless auburn sea glittering beneath an azure sky." He turned to Legato once more, finding the man staring at him again, though the expression he now wore expressed a different sort of surprise, seeming almost impressed.

"I take it that I'm not behaving like myself, then?" Knives commented on the expression that gazed back at him.

"You could say that," responded Legato, the remarkable understatement of his words voiced clearly in his eyes and tone.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be... it's alright."

Knives smiled.

Legato had never seen such a genuine expression on his master's face before.


	4. Knives

**4**

_Knives_

By the time the two made their way into the first semblances of civilization on their route, the first sun had vanished behind the horizon and the second was in close pursuit. The first stars had started to become visible directly overhead as the sky gradually began to darken, and the temperatures had just begun to decline, heat from the day's sunlight still radiating off the sand. Legato led the way into the town by way of the main road, which was moderately populated; though still early in the evening, those who were planning on spending a good night out had begun to emerge and head to their destinations, passing by the families that were on their way home in time for their children's bedtimes. Knives followed closely behind Legato through the town, never dropping more than a pace or two behind, though Legato did move at a slowed rate in consideration for the plant's desires to inspect his surroundings. Passing through the main square of town, Legato stopped and turned to Knives.

"I don't suppose you're hungry?" the human asked, trying not to let his voice sound too hopeful.

A tiny smirk crept onto Knives' face, as Legato hadn't entirely succeeded, "I think I could manage to eat something."

Legato nodded, not bothering to hide his smile, and led the way to a restaurant he had eaten in a few times before, while tracking one unfortunate outlaw, and found to be satisfactory enough. Once inside the establishment, they found that it was a busy night; a small wait was to be expected for the table, and the dining area was bustling with noise and activity. Ordinarily, Legato would have just manipulated a few minds to accommodate their needs, but he decided instead that this would be a good experiment; the Knives he knew as his master – who admittedly would not be in such a place, let alone with Legato – would not tolerate having to wait his turn to be served after all the humans who had arrived before him, nor would he stand for their noise. In fact, were his master actually here, odds were that the building would not be. In any case, though, this was a wonderful opportunity to see how Knives as he now was would react to being placed in a situation that would try his patience to an extreme and expose him to a large, concentrated sample of humanity.

Yet when the human glanced over to see how his companion was handling the situation, he was greeted with the calm, peaceful expression of one who was patiently and considerately waiting his turn. A blue eyebrow arched curiously, though he tried his best not to fully gape at the plant. Despite his efforts, a pair of blue eyes glanced over and met his gaze.

"Is something wrong?" Knives' brow furrowed, innocently puzzled.

"No, not really," the human murmured, "Just a little annoyed with the wait, not to mention the crowd and all the noise."

The plant smiled, "They are admittedly loud, but they're just having fun. It's kind of nice to see so much life in the middle of all the desolation."

Legato responded by staring.

"You're giving me that look again," Knives remarked, a bit guiltily.

"What look?" Feigning innocence was not Legato's strong suit.

"The one that means I've said or done something that I'm definitely not supposed to have said or done," a bit of frustration was evident in the tone, though clearly not with Legato.

"Well, it's just that… you're not behaving like yourself. Or at least not as I know you," Legato shrugged.

"It doesn't sound like I'm a very nice person," a slight frown came across the tanned face.

"It's not really that you're not nice… it's just that…" the human found himself at a loss, "…people just don't understand you."

"What do you mean?" Knives tilted his head slightly.

"Well, I mean that…" Legato hesitated before finding what he wanted to say, "People don't really seem to understand why you act the way you do or do the things you do, and you might come off as being… not a very nice person, as you put it, but it's only because you see things in a way they can't. Most of them don't even realize that your point of view exists."

"Why's that?"

"Well…" the human chided himself mentally for having said so much, "I suppose you could just say that you're different… you just… have a unique way of thinking."

"Oh… okay." Any further questioning was cut off as a waitress lead them to a table. It was somewhat apparent that Knives didn't really get what Legato meant, but was content enough to stow it away with everything else he didn't quite understand at the moment, which was rapidly becoming a considerable load.

-…-

By the time they reached the inn, the streets had grown still and quiet, all but completely devoid of any sign of life. At this hour, the families were at home and the drunks had already found their bars. Save for a few poor souls that couldn't handle their alcohol and were already out of commission and being dragged home by companions, the town had reached a strange, peaceful calm. They stepped quietly into the building, and Legato made his way to the counter behind which a supposedly cheerful, plump man stood ready and eager to devoid him of a sizeable chunk of his meager funds. All that his budget really allowed for was one room, though with two beds, which the innkeeper handed him the key for with a pleasant if not artificial smile – once the double dollars had been forked over, of course. Legato decided that he did not particularly care for this man and thought that extended exposure to him might bring Knives back to himself, but that he could not bear to do such a thing to his master.

Once Legato had granted the small fat man a slight nod in response to his appreciation for their money, he led the way up to the room. Leading Knives around was something that, at the start of the day, had seemed quite absurd; Legato was also certain that somehow, no matter how unlikely he knew it was, Knives' memory would return in an instant and he would find an angel blade lodged firmly in his skull for having the audacity to do so. By now, he was a bit less afraid of the angel blade scenario occurring, since the plant had peacefully and willingly followed him this far without incident, though the entire thing still felt absolutely ludicrous as far as he was concerned.

The room was modest but satisfactory; two single beds were situated against the left wall, a nightstand between them. On the right wall was a writing desk and chair. On the far wall were two chairs, and on the wall with the door were two other doors; one to the bathroom and one to a closet. Also on the far wall was a double window, through which poured enough moonlight for Legato to find and operate the light switch.

He and Knives each dropped their packs on one of the chairs, and before he could even suggest the notion, Knives collapsed onto one of the beds. A bit of concern arose within Legato; the plant shouldn't be so fatigued from a day of travel, which meant that his injuries were still affecting him.

"Are you alright?" Legato inquired gently as he sat on the second bed.

"Yeah," Knives responded, turning onto his side to face the other man, "I'm just a bit tired."

"Are any of your injuries still in pain?" Legato leaned forward a bit, his concern growing.

"My arm still hurts a bit," the blonde replied, "And sometimes I get a pain in my abdomen, but it's not too bad."

Legato frowned, "I should have given you a few more days to heal… I know you mend quickly, but you were in terrible condition…"

Knives shook his head, "No, I'm much better. It's fine, Legato, don't worry about me."

The human could only sigh in response as he lowered his gaze; Knives' suggestion was clearly not a viable option.

"In any case, I'm going to sleep," the plant spoke again as he buried himself under the covers, yawning even as he spoke, "And you look exhausted, so you should do the same."

Legato nodded absently, "Yes, Master."

His eyes widened as the words left his lips, worried that Knives would grill him for an explanation, but as soon as his panicked gaze jolted up to meet Knives, he saw that the plant had already dropped off to sleep. He sighed again, though this time in relief.

"I suppose you were tired…" he smiled softly as he crawled under his own covers, "Goodnight… Knives."

The human drifted off moments later, the sound of his own voice addressing his master by name still circulating in his head.


	5. Meaningless

**5**

_Meaningless_

It wasn't until they were on the road again that Knives finally inquired as to the nature of their journey, and considering the wreckage Legato had on their itinerary, answering the question was no easy task. He certainly couldn't just say, "Well, we're going to see some cities you destroyed and hopefully it will help you remember you're a genocidal crusader." The idea of the whole thing was to let Knives' memory return as it would, with little actual prompting from Legato.

"Well," began the minion turned caretaker, "I figured we'd go out and see the world, the population, sites of some of the major events, and that, by doing so, we might spur your memory a bit."

"Events that are important to me personally or to the entire population?" the plant queried, obviously in doubt of how well this would work.

"Well… both, actually; they're very important to everyone this planet," Legato was somewhat thankful that Knives had a preference for destruction on the mass level; he didn't have to lie at all.

Knives was contented enough with his response and continued the conversation in a new line of questioning, "So where are we headed today?"

"Today," Legato said slowly, "We begin making our way towards the city of Augusta. It will take a while, but that's our first major destination."

"There are full-fledged cities on this planet?" Knives seemed both doubtful and tentatively impressed.

"Well, yes," the response came hesitantly, "Though Augusta is no longer a prime example of this."

"And why is that?" the plant frowned.

"Because it's… not really a city so much as the ruins," Legato was surprised to find that he was almost sad to speak the reply.

"What?" Knives seemed genuinely upset, "But what happened to it?"

"It was, ah…" the human paused as he found a way to reply without technically lying, "A… localized disaster area."

"…a what?" his master was obviously confused.

"It's a unique circumstance," Legato worked quickly to come up with a way to explain and yet not explain himself, "Somewhat complicated of a concept to explain. This planet actually suffers from, ah, a permanent disaster that… is free to move about the planet at its own will and… ah… given the proper catalyst, this can lead to massive destruction."

Knives was now completely baffled, and it was

"It's hard to really explain well without you having witnessed it first hand…" the human gave a small smile, which he immediately realized must have looked quite out-of-place on his face, "Or at least, having remembered witnessing it."

To this, the blonde nodded, and though he clearly didn't grasp what Legato was saying any better, he let the subject drop.

They fell into a peaceful, calm silence as they walked on, which the once-minion thought was quite strange, albeit not an entirely negative thing. He drifted into his own mind as he trudged steadily along, focusing on some point that would always be just past the horizon. In his thoughts, he found that he had lost a lot of who – or rather, what – he thought he was; it seemed that without his master's constant reminders of his place in the world, of his only purpose in existence, that he was now without a guiding purpose. He did not feel any great emphasis on his humanity, nor did he feel particularly compelled to wipe the rest of the species out; without the Knives he served to please, his goals seemed meaningless. It was strange; though he had always viewed himself as being insignificant and worthless because of what he was, serving a superior being's great cause had given him a place, an importance, a meaning. Being of use to a meaningful being have given him a reason to continue living, and without it, he felt much smaller; he no longer had his meaning, and found himself level with the rest of humanity – no, even smaller, even more alone than them, for he had no place in their society after having lived outside of it for so many years. Without a cause, without his master, he was adrift…

He felt a hand on his shoulder and snapped out of his detached state. Looking to the side, he was met with a pair of crystalline blue pools, flooded with concern.

"Are you alright, Legato?" Knives frowned, "You seem really preoccupied…"

Staring with unabashed wonder at the plant, Legato could feel himself relax somewhat, his worries drifting off, "…yes. I'm fine... thank you."

A sheepish smile was accompanied by a single raised brow, "Sure… what's on your mind, anyway?"

The human shrugged off the question, "Nothing important, really."

Knives' expression was a bit bewildered, but Legato seemed secure enough in his answer that it didn't come into question. And looking at Knives… he found that his earlier concerns seemed absurd, as he had an even more important purpose now than he had before; Knives was now in a state where he was relying on Legato. Not only was the superior being that gave his life meaning still present to serve, he was more needed by that being than he had ever been.

"What's that?" Knives was gazing off to one side, pointing just past a rocky dune. Following his line of sight, Legato could just see a peculiar, mangled metallic structure over the edge of the dune.

"I'm not sure… care to go investigate?" Legato glanced over to Knives, who nodded his consent, and they set off. As they neared the dune, the structure became clearer in its shape, or at least the shape it had likely once held. When they stopped walking, they found themselves a few feet from the battered wreckage of a SEEDS ship. The human turned to the blonde at his side, watching carefully for any reaction to the unexpected yet perfect scene before them.

The plant stayed in place for a few moments before taking a slow few steps towards the crash, "…what is this?"

"This is… a SEEDS ship. Or rather, it was. Humanity came to this planet aboard these ships… or, crashed here, rather," Legato spoke slowly, following a pace behind Knives' slow survey of the site.

"Crashed… what went wrong?" the plant knelt to examine a bit of hull that was nearly buried in the sand, brushing a few grains off of it.

Legato sighed. 'You did,' did not seem like the proper response.

"Something… went wrong in the system. The vast majority of the population has no idea what happened… some choose to blame a high-profile outlaw, who's become something of a legend on the planet, a scapegoat for nearly anything that goes wrong," Legato found himself again grateful that the humans were oblivious to what went on behind the curtains, as it were.

Knives nodded slowly and was silent for a second before speaking again, "…Legato?"

"Yes?" the human returned his gaze down to the plant.

"Should this… this wreckage, the ship, the story… should it be meaningful to me?" Blue eyes were removed from their examination of the wreckage to look up into their golden counterparts.

"…is it?" he tried his hardest to not show too much hope, too much indication of what the answer should be, in his eyes.

"…I think so," Knives spoke slowly, somewhat unsure, "I'm not sure how, but… there's something about all of this… about all you're saying, about this site, that seems to do something to me. I don't know what it is, but… it feels like something is trying to… be remembered, I suppose. Like I've just been asked a question, and the answer is on the tip of my tongue, like I should know it, but I just can't quite think of the right words…"

Legato nodded, "It should be, yes," he watched as his master stood, and offered his best attempt at a gentle smile, "What's important is that your memories are trying to come back, not that they succeed right now. There's no need to rush anything, and the fact that something is nagging at you is improvement enough for the time being."

The plant nodded, smiling back, "Thank you, Legato."

"For what?" blue eyebrows furrowed, confused at the response.

"For… everything, I suppose. Just for being here… for staying with me," the plant was smiling warmly.

Legato couldn't come up with a good response to that, so he muttered an unsure, "You're welcome…"

He questioned whether anything had actually improved.


End file.
